Misadventures in Imladris
by Pinto
Summary: Misadventure 3: Three-year-old Aragorn has not been sleeping since arriving in Imladris. Out of kindness, Elladan agrees to try and calm the child, giving Lord Elrond a break...but does he know what he's doing?
1. Of Estel and Trees

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Hello there! Allow me to introduce myself: I am Pinto. I'm not really new to fanfiction.net, but this is my first time in the Lord of the Rings category, so please let me know how I'm doing. I became enthralled after seeing the first movie, and then I read the books, including The Silmarillion. 

I'll include the big obvious disclaimer here: I don't own any of the characters, places, or general concepts. They are all property of JRR Tolkien and family. However, the plot is mine, and if you wish (for some odd reason) to use it in any way, please e-mail and ask me first at pinto_2003@yahoo.com**. It would be greatly appreciated! Now have a good day! **

I decided to take the first fic easy, so I'm just doing shorter stories that will all be combined into one series called Misadventures in Imladris. I figured I'd just avoid taking on an entire novel-length story just yet! So anyway, hope you enjoy the first one! Let me know what you think, please!

Summary: Estel is still young and inexperienced. However, his older brothers seem to forget that and always drag poor Estel into trouble. What is Elrond going to think when Elladan and Elrohir decided it was a good idea for eleven-year-old Estel to go for a climb?

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Misadventures in Imladris:

Of Estel and Trees

By: Pinto

Estel glanced anxiously at his twin brothers, both looking as though they could see some fascinating object far off, considerably further than the impatient eleven-year-old could see. Their elven hearing was aptly focused on a distant sound, and Estel glanced restlessly from one dark haired twin to the other. It irked him greatly when Elladan and Elrohir would do this; it only amplified his mortal nature and his lack of Eldar skills.

"What is it?" He finally demanded, his impatient nature getting the best of him.

Elladan looked sharply at the boy, his dark eyes signaling for Estel to lower his voice. "_Aí_, Estel! Give us one minute and we will tell you!" A clearly visible glint shone in his eyes, giving away his façade of irritability. "I swear by Eru that you have the patience of a drunken orc!"

The dark haired youth raised an eyebrow at his brother's comment. "Now how could that be, dear brother? Ada does not even allow me wine at meals; besides, how would you know how a drunken orc would behave?"

Exasperated, Elladan teasingly gently cuffed Estel alongside the head. The boy brought his hand up, cushioning the spot where he had been smacked. His light gray eyes narrowed in an attempt to send a scathing look to his elder brother.

"Are you both quite finished?" Elrohir had refocused his attention to his quarreling siblings, breaking his concentration from what he had been listening to. A hint of a smile pulled at the edges of his face.

Elladan and Estel looked at each other a moment before they both turned their attention to Elrohir. "I believe so. Right, Estel?"

Estel smiled sweetly, nodding vigorously. "Oh yes. Positively finished." 

The other twin struggled not to roll his eyes at the two, both of who seemed to be unmistakably dripping with sarcasm. Shaking his head, Elrohir spoke to Elladan. "I believe the herd is passing to the north, most likely in search of fresh grasses. I would say at least seventy-five, possibly more."

"Aye, that is about the same conclusion I came to." A wicked grin appeared on his face. "I suppose Estel would like to know what we're talking about, brother." Elrohir noted the jesting look on his twin's face and could not resist playing along. Quickly sobering his face, he nodded seriously.

Clenching his teeth together, Estel struggled not to attack his elven siblings. "On the contrary," he gritted out between clamped teeth, "I do not care in the least." The human youth was surprised that his eye had not begun to twitch due to the utter yearning to know what his brothers had heard. But he would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him desperate. Not in a millennia.

"You heard him, Elrohir, he doesn't want to know." Elladan stoically commented. "And to think that we were planning on telling him." 

The other mahogany haired elf shrugged sadly. "Estel, it's too bad that you are going to miss out. I had been under the impression that you were interested."

Both elves cast a look of overplayed remorse at their human brother before shrugging and turning to leave. Estel stared wide-eyed at the two as they began to move away from him. They weren't going to tell him? His clenched teeth relaxed and his jaw practically dropped open. He figured that the reverse-psychological method that he had been playing with would win him the answer he was looking for, not cause his brothers to simply leave! Estel grimaced. This would only mean one thing: he had to now beg his brothers for the answers he was looking for. 

"Muindyr!" His voice carried the short distance to Elladan and Elrohir's ears. Both shot one another looks of triumph before turning around to face the distraught face of their young sibling.

"Yes, Min-neth?" Elrohir responded innocently, enjoying the look of torture on his youngest brother's face. 

Estel shook his head, disgusted with himself for being so curious as to beg his brothers. "I…" He paused, narrowing his eyes at the far-too-happy look on Elladan's face.

"You what?" Elladan prodded, enjoying every minute. It wasn't often that they could get the raven-haired boy in a position like this – far too often it was the other way around.

Sighing, Estel threw the rest of his deflating dignity away. "I was mistaken when I said that…" He stuttered briefly before continuing. "That I did not care what it was that you both heard." He looked into his their faces and saw that they both were waiting for more. By the Valar, he was going to get them back for this. "Would you _please_ tell me?"

Elrohir smiled, knowing that this was the most severe type of torture that could be handed to the young human – having to plead. Estel's self-regard was legendary. He did not enjoy being in situations like the one that he was in now. Reluctantly, the Elf decided that Estel had suffered his share of torture.

"All right, _edan_." Elrohir gently teased. "There is an unusually large herd of deer passing through just north of the edge of the woods. It is rare to see the deer run in the open in such large number."

"In fact," Elladan interjected, excited by the possibility of a hunt, "if we climb up a tree, I'm almost sure we will be able to see them!" His eyes sparkled.

Elrohir closed his eyes briefly. Why couldn't Elladan think before he opened his unnaturally loud mouth sometimes? Estel was not coordinated in trees yet, as he had neither the natural grace of Elves nor necessary years of experience, and now, undoubtedly, the boy would want to join his brothers. 

"Raudh-dôl!" Elrohir muttered quietly, just loud enough for his twin's ears. Elladan shot the other Elf a look of indignity.

Estel's eyes shone with excitement, thrilled with the idea of joining his brothers to see the large herd. Perhaps Ada would even let him go with the hunting group if one were to be organized. "What are we waiting for?" He questioned, still looking eager. "Let's climb!"

Elladan nodded, smiling to see the energy that Estel was showing. Elladan himself was impatient to get to the top of the tree – he didn't want to miss the herd! This could easily turn into the largest hunt in decades. Deftly, the dark haired elf moved to a tall tree and easily leaped up into the first branches, pulling his body up into the leaves. Elrohir looked disbelieving at his twin. Did the Elf have not the slightest bit of sense in his thick skull?

Wasting no more time, Elrohir launched himself into the tree and onto the same branch where Elladan stood. Standing up, he stared unbelievingly at the other Elf. "_Aí_! Do you have the brains of a dwarf, brother? Estel is not practiced enough in trees to go cavorting about in trees of this height! Ada will have our heads! You forget that Estel is not gifted with elvish balance!"

Placing a reassuring hand on Elrohir's shoulder, Elladan nodded. "Ah yes, Elrohir, but Ada cannot have our heads if he never knows about it. I have faith in Estel; he has lived his entire life around us, I am sure that skills such as these have rubbed off."

Rubbing his forehead, Elrohir looked down to see young hands gripping the bottom limb, where both Elves stood. After a few strained grunts and unsuccessful attempts, Estel managed to pull himself up onto the branch. Once he had properly balanced himself, he glanced at both his brothers, a gleeful gleam in his gray eyes.

"See, no worries!" Elladan proclaimed, smiling at the eleven-year-old boy. "He will be fine." 

Shaking his head, Elrohir submitted to his twin's logic. "Fine." He muttered and began to follow the other dark haired Elf up the tree. Estel watched his brothers climb up ahead of him before debating his next best move to advance further up the tree. It didn't seem so hard. He had only fallen out once before, but that was because Glorfindel had distracted him. The fact, however, that the incident in his mind had been the only time he had climbed a tree, seemed to slip past his mind.

Finally, he decided his next plan of attack and leapt straight up, grasping the rough bark of a thick branch in his fingers. He held in a gasp as the surface of the tree treated his tender fingers coarsely. Gritting his teeth, Estel utilized all of his upper body strength to propel himself onto the limb he had been hanging from. Sighing, he looked up. Elladan and Elrohir were already at least ten feet above him. It seemed as though this tree stretched up forever! Estel plucked at a leaf that hung tauntingly in front of his face. He began to doubt if he really could make it to the top; he was lucky if he was ten feet off the ground at this point and even now he was feeling tired. 

"No. I am not giving up! Stop being such a weak human." He reproached himself. Standing up, the boy glanced higher, looking at his choices for branches. Leaping forward and up, his hands once again latched onto a tree limb. He swung back and forth precariously for a few seconds, like a pendulum. As he tried to pull himself up, the muscles in his arms protested strongly. Estel glanced at a branch in front of him. If he swung just enough, he could gain enough momentum to propel himself onto it. 

Kicking his legs, Estel pumped to move in a swinging motion. His body began to sway back and forth as a result and he focused on the target in front of him. _On the count of three…_ He coached himself, feeling the momentum that he was creating speed up. _One…_ He swung forward. _Two…_ He swung back. _Three!_ As he swung forward again, he released his hands from their hold on the branch. For a split second, Estel felt himself soaring through the air on the verge of a free-fall tumble. Then, his feet hit the bark of the branch, and he teetered dangerously back and forth, wheeling his hands to try and regain a vestige of balance.

Suddenly, his flailing hands caught a slender branch above him, steadying him enough to keep him from tumbling out of the tree all together. Taking a deep breath, Estel tried to relax. How could Elladan and Elrohir move in the tree as quickly as they did? It was impossible! Groaning, he looked up again. He might as well keep moving. He prepared himself for the next jump.

"See!" Elladan motioned to the figure below them. "Estel is doing fine! Did I not tell you?"

Shaking his head, Elrohir could not help but smile. "You are right, he is doing quite well." Glancing down, he guessed that the boy was about twenty feet up in the tree at this point – still ten feet below his brothers, however. Elrohir paused in his climb and stretched out on the branch. He decided to wait here and allow his young human brother to catch up. He sighed contentedly as a warm breeze blew his dark locks of hair back.

A sudden yelp made Elrohir jerk up from his reclined position and look down. He stared in shock as Estel lost his balance entirely and slipped from the branch. The boy disappeared from sight, followed by a sickening thud a few seconds later. Elrohir felt his blood run suddenly cold. He leapt to his feet, sensing that Elladan had scrambled down to where he now stood.

"Sweet Valar, we killed Estel!" The color had drained from Elladan's face from shock, leaving him pale.

Elrohir jerked back up and shook his brother. "Elladan! He's not dead! Quick, get Ada!" When Elladan made no signs of comprehension, Elrohir shook him again. "Get ADA!" 

Without another word, Elladan began scrambling down the tree, quickly followed by Elrohir. Within seconds, they reached the base of the tree. Elrohir sucked in a deep gasp of air when he saw his young brother lying limply on the ground. He rushed over to him, releasing his breath when he saw the rise and fall of Estel's chest. 

He looked to Elladan. "He breathes. Now go! Quickly, tell Ada to hurry! I dare not move him."

Still stuck in a gaping expression of shock, Elladan raced away, his hair flying wildly behind him. This was his fault. He never should have let his human brother climb the tree! He was hardly more than an infant – only eleven years old! What in the name of Elbereth was he thinking?

Elrohir remained at the boy's side, crouching down next to him. "Estel, Ada is coming." He quietly reassured the unconscious child. Somehow he felt he was just trying to reassure himself though. His eyes traveled the body of the black-haired child. His left leg was twisted at a horrifyingly unnatural angle and his left arm looked as though it may have been dislodged from its socket. Elrohir cringed obliviously. Why on Arda had he allowed Elladan to talk him into allowing Estel into the tree? This was his entire fault.

Lord Elrond sat at a small round table, maps spread recklessly about it, covering the entire surface. Across the desk sat Haldir from Lothlorién. They were discussing the unusual amount of Orcs that the Lothlorién guard's forces had been spotting. They grew dangerously close to the edges of the Golden Wood, and it had become more and more unsettling. Haldir's golden hair splayed across some of the maps as he carefully studied a location in depth. However, a far away sound broke his concentration and he looked up.

It was apparent that Lord Elrond had also heard the calls, and he could identify it immediately. As they grew closer, the cries became more defined.

"Ada! ADA!" A voice echoed loudly down the hallway as its owner drew closer to the library in which the two elder Elves sat.

Lord Elrond supplied Haldir an apologetic glance, but the golden haired simply smiled in understanding, leaning away from the map that he had been so closely examining.

With a sudden burst of energy, Elladan burst into the room, his eyes frantically searching for Elrond. The Halfelven Lord stood at once, seeing the expression of panic that was painted across his son's face. He looked unnaturally pale and his usually well-kept hair was untamed and disheveled. "Elladan, what is wrong?" A crease of concern crossed Elrond's face. 

"Ada!" The twin cried again, looking over to see Haldir for the first time. "It's Estel!"

Immediately the lord of Imladris tensed at the mention of his adopted human son. "What happened?"

"He fell out of a tree, Ada! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He blurted out, anguish distorting his features. "I didn't mean…and then he just…I didn't know!" He stuttered, his brown eyes flashing.

"A tree?" Lord Elrond's eyes grew darker. "How high was he, Elladan?" Concern grew within the Elf Lord. For an Elf to fall was painful but not too serious, but humans did not always have the resilient capability of the Elves.

"We think it was about twenty feet." Elladan whispered, looking wide-eyed his father.

Elrond closed his eyes. Twenty feet was a hideously long fall for Men, especially for a child of Estel's age. He glanced over to Haldir, who sat watching the entire drama unfold. "I am sorry, my friend, if you will excuse me…"

"Aye, my lord, it is no inconvenience of mine. Would you like me to prepare the healing room?" Haldir had stood up at this point, pushing several of the maps into a pile at the center of the table. "This may all wait, it appears that a more urgent situation had arisen." Hints of a smile tugged at the blonde Elf's lips.

Lord Elrond nodded appreciatively. "If you could, my friend…" He trailed off, seeing Elladan looking rather perturbed that his father had not yet taken flight to where Estel and Elrohir still remained. "We will return shortly." 

With that, Elrond followed Elladan out, nearly being dragged by the younger Elf's strong grip on his Ada's arm. "I should have known better!" The son confessed, his eyes aimed downward as he surged forward in the direction of the tree where Estel had fallen. "He is but a mere child! Elbereth, what was I thinking?"

"My son, we will discuss it later. Right now it is important that we reach Estel quickly, for I do not know the extent of his injuries." Elrond felt worry creeping into his mind. He was concerned by the way that Elladan was acting, for it was rare that the twin would become so distraught. _I will find out in a few minutes what makes him so troubled._

Elrohir looked up, hearing footsteps and voices from a few hundred feet away. He glanced down at Estel who still lay motionless on the ground. "Ada is coming, Estel." The Elf's dark eyes shut briefly, already envisioning the demeanor of his father. Both Elladan and himself were going to be fed to a warg for this.

"Elrohir!" The Elf quickly opened his eyes and saw both his father and brother quickly closing the gap between Estel and themselves. Elrohir nimbly got onto his feet, quickly moving out of the way and allowing his ada to kneel down next to where the young human boy lay.

"Estel…" Elrond quietly murmured, seeing the condition of his youngest son. The Lord of Imladris gingerly brushed some of the ebony hair away from the boy's abnormally pale skin and lightly lifted the eyelids. He noted that they were more widely dilated than they should be. He sighed, hoping that there would be no head injury to add onto the list that already apparently consisted of a broken leg and dislocated shoulder. 

Looking up, Lord Elrond motioned to Elrohir to move closer. "I need to move him onto his stomach, _very_ cautiously." 

Nodding, Elrohir maneuvered his hands to rest underneath Estel's neck and lower back. He glanced up at his father, waiting for his command. "Very good. Now, I need you to slowly roll him to the left." 

Forcing his lips into a tight line, Elrohir lifted up with his hands, in effect moving his young brother onto his side. "Easy…easy…" Elrond instructed, guiding the motions with his own expert hands. After a painstakingly long time, Estel lay on his stomach, his back facing toward the sky.

Pushing the sleeves of his heavy tunic up, Elrond placed his hands at the base of Estel's neck, carefully pressing to feel the vertebrae that lay underneath the skin, hoping to sense if the boy had any signs of a cracked spine. Systematically, Elrond moved down Estel's back, finally rocking back on his knees, relieved to find that there was no cracked backbone. However, the broken leg and dislocated shoulder were an ugly sight and knew that if Estel were to wake up soon, he would be in a large amount of pain.

Elladan looked anxiously where his father kneeled, his hands wrapped around his torso in worry. "Ada? Is Estel all right?"

Elrond looked up to his other son and forced an ineffectual smile onto his face. "He has no broken vertebrae, which is a blessing, but I am apprehensive about his arm and leg. It would be best if we can set his leg and replace his shoulder back before he wakes up." Elrond gently rolled the boy's limp body into his arms, easily supporting the child's weight. "Come, both of you." He indicated to his sons, his voice containing both undertones of kindness and disappointment.

The three walked through the woods in silence, both Elladan and Elrohir practically hanging their heads. They could tell that their Ada was not pleased with their irresponsibility. Lord Elrond focused his attention down as a muffled groan came from the child in his arms.

"Estel?" He quietly questioned, surprised to see the boy coming back to consciousness so quickly. 

Estel's eyes looked slightly glassy, which Elrond attributed to the pain, and they struggled to focus on the swirling face in front of him. "Ada?" His voice quavered, and his eyes briefly tried to focus. Elrond could feel the youth's back arch slightly as the pain hit him. A confused sob escaped his lips and the light gray eyes searched the face above him for answers. "Ada, it hurts!"

"Shhh, I know, min iôn." Elrond attempted to cradle the small body better in his arms. "We're almost home, min-neth." 

Estel looked up, taking in his father's face before his eyes slowly slipped shut again. Elrond watched his son's breathing for a few moments to ensure that he had not slipped into a shock. Once he had determined that shock was not the cause, he relaxed slightly. It was better that Estel not be awake when they would have to wrench his arm back into socket. It was not a fun thing to do, but despite the many years of healing expertise that Elrond had, there was still no other way to do it.

The small procession entered the Last Homely House and quickly proceeded to the Healing Room. Elrond entered first, glad to see that everything had already been set up. This would save him at least ten minutes of preparation time. Haldir stood alongside the bed, watching as Elrond approached.

"My lord, do you wish me to stay and assist?" He inquired as Estel was gently laid on the soft covers of the bed. He knew that this was the young edan that the Lord of Imladris had adopted as his own son. The blonde Elf's eyes lingered on the youth's form. While there was no questioning that he was indeed of the race of Men, there was something remarkably Elven about him. 

Lord Elrond looked at the Lothlorién kinsman and nodded. "I would like to set the leg in a brace first. I do not wish to disturb that injury any more, if there was to be… thrashing about….when we have to re-set the dislocated shoulder." 

Elladan's eyes widened at that remark. He knew how much that hurt, for after several accidents his father had to do that exact thing to him. He could never forget the burning, fiery pain that lingered for hours after his arm had been twisted down in order to place it back in the socket. He felt such remorse for his young brother. Estel shouldn't have to deal with this type of pain at his age.

Elrond easily dealt with the leg first, without assistance. That was really nothing more than a clean break, which with luck would heal in several weeks. He sighed, remembering that Estel was a young human, and his healing process would take longer than that of the Elves. Perhaps a month would be a more sensible estimate. As he placed the last roll of bandaging around the braces of the splint, Estel's eyes fluttered open again.

He groaned, trying to lift his head up to see what was going on, only to have it pressed gently back down to the pillow that it had been resting on. The boy's eyes flashed to the right to see who had pushed him back. He met the gaze of an unfamiliar Elf and quickly drew a breath in. "Who are you?" He breathlessly questioned, panic building deep in his chest, threatening to constrict his breathing.

"Calm yourself, hen-neth. I am Haldir from the Golden Wood, who are friends of your Ada." A smile crossed the unfamiliar blonde's face. 

Estel nodded, attempting to pace his breathing, knowing that he was on the verge of simply gasping for air through the shooting pain. "Where is Ada? Elrohir? Elladan?"

"We are right here." Both of the twins moved closer to the head of the bed. "We are sorry, Estel, we did not mean for you to fall." Elladan apologized quietly.

"Do not blame yourselves." Estel requested, grimacing as another burning wave of pain erupted from his shoulder. "If I were only a bit more graceful I would not have fallen in the first place."

Lord Elrond moved up by his twin sons and looked at Elrohir purposefully before looking down at his youngest son. "Estel, your shoulder became dislocated in your fall. We are going to have to move it back into place and it is going to hurt a great deal." He let his hand gently rest on the black hair. "But it will only last several moments."

Elrohir looked at his father desperately. "Ada, can we not give Estel something to dull the pain? Or perhaps to put him out so he does not have to feel this?"

"I wish I could, Elrohir." Elrond acknowledged regrettably. "But at such a young age and due to the possibility of concussion, I do not want to take the risk of side effects that the drug could have. He will have to endure it unaided. I will need you to hold his good arm to his side and keep him from lashing out and hurting himself more. Can you do that?"

Grimly, Elrohir nodded, moving to Estel's side and carefully grabbing the boy's arm, pinned it down to the bed, alongside him. Estel's eyes rolled over to where Elrohir stood, a look of remorse tingeing his features. "Elrohir?" The boy asked, his voice trembling. "What are you doing?" 

"I'm sorry, Estel." Elrohir whispered, closing his eyes.

Elrond's voice broke through, directed at the frightened Estel. "This will hurt." He carefully looked at the boy's arm again and placed his palm on Estel's sweat-dampened forehead, trying to transfer a small bit of comfort into the eleven-year-old. Finally he placed his hands around his son's arm and without dragging the situation out any longer, Elrond jerked the arm in a powerful downward motion. 

There was a brief second where no sound came from the young human's gasping lips. But then, a scream came from his lips that Haldir later on claimed that would have scared the Orcs from the borders of Lothlorién faster than if a Balrog were chasing them down.

Elladan sank into a chair, closing his eyes and only hearing the sounds of his ada attempting to calm the frantic and suffering child down. It sounded as though Estel were truly beginning to hyperventilate, the sizzling pain unmistakably clouding his rational thoughts. 

As his ada's voice floated through the air in song, Elladan opened his eyes to the sight of his father kneeling by the bed assuaging Estel's pain. His hand stroked the lengthy black hair and Estel's eyes were fixated on the face of his father, eyes glazed over in the resurgence of pain. Slowly, soothed by the soft song, Estel's eyes slipped shut and his erratic breathing slowed and evened.

"He's alseep now." Elrond stated, standing slowly, his gaze falling on both Elrohir and Elladan. "However, I would like to speak with you both in the hallway." 

Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other fearfully. Their father was surely going to send their spirits to the Halls of Mandos before he was done with them. They had known this was coming, and slowly, with heads lowered, the two dark haired twins trudged into the hallway, their father not quite following them yet.

"My lord, I don't believe I ever gave you the proper respect for your abilities." Haldir smiled, looking at Elrond's slightly frazzled expression.

"Aye, Haldir. For the millennia of dangers that I have dealt with, it is my children that provide me with the greatest challenge." The Lord of Imladris looked up at the Lorién elf, a mirthful shine in his eyes. "But if you will excuse me for a moment, again, I shall be right back. I have two sons to feed to the wolves."

Haldir stood stone faced for several seconds before breaking into laughter as Lord Elrond briskly excused himself out of the room. 

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Translations

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- Muindyr! – Brothers!

- Min-neth – young one

- Edan – human ****

- Raudh-dôl – Nitwit (lit. translation = hollow head)

- iôn – son

- hen-neth – young child


	2. To Finally Come Home

Hullo! Well, by popular demand…er….maybe more like three or four requests, (I take what I can get) here is the second story in the Misadventures in Imladris series. Now, the catch to this story is that there's going to be two parts to it. This is the first section, and I try to cut it off at what might be considered a somewhat logical point. Kind of. ****

Anyway, there WILL be a second part, so don't get upset! I'll try to get it up sometime soon…*pauses*…you know, some more reviews would really motivate me! ():-) Anyway, honestly, I really would like some more feedback regarding these stories, so I can know what to work on, what people like, and stuff like that. Oh! Also, I apologize for my incorrect spelling of adan in the last story. I checked up on it in the Silmarillion, and it is indeed adan. I messed it up with edain, which is the plural of adan. Heh. My bad, sorry, things like that will happen occasionally, but I'm trying my best!

Disclaimer: My stories borrow characters from the esteemed JRR Tolkien's amazing works, but I promise I will do them no lasting harm and return them practically as good as new! I attempt to follow Tolkien's given story lines to the best of my ability, but occasionally things do get changed for one reason or another, so I beg forgiveness from all. And last of all, but most obviously, I'm not making money from these stories – they simply provide me an outlet to let out all of my crazy creative energy and enjoy my own view of Tolkien's creations. Thank ya very much!

Summary: Estel is at an age where life seems impossibly hard as it is. However, living with elves makes him feel even less adequate then he thought possible. After Estel leaves, it's up to Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas to find their young human brother and friend before he gets into serious trouble… 

With no further ado, Pinto Productions presents:

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Misadventures in Imladris:

To Finally Come Home

Part I

Estel glanced about the dark confines of his room, struggling to see if he had forgotten anything. On his bed lay a leather knapsack, slowly being filled with items such as tunics and pants. At the bottom of the pack were several select fruits and a small loaf of bread. The only light in the room came from the sultry glow of the moon through Estel's window, and it landed softly on the silken sheets that covered the young man's bed.

Sighing, the sixteen-year-old retired briefly from packing his small pack and gradually moved out onto the marble balcony that extended out from his room. He was met by the cool grace of the deep night air. The brisk breeze pushed the youth's dark hair back, and he closed his eyes, accepting the caress that the wind provided. The air was filled with the faint scent of blooming flowers and fresh fallen rains. Reaching the edge of the parapet, Estel leaned forward, letting his hands rest on the smooth railing. 

This was his home, the only one he had ever known. But he had always felt as though there was something missing – something wrong. He knew that he was loved, but he would always be human and they would forever be elves. His life would fade in the sands of flowing time, but they would continue on for eternity and Estel would simply be nothing more than a wisp of their memories. And yet, here he lived, surrounded by those who could not possibly understand what it was to be human and to know what it was to be mortal. Countless times that rift had been painfully obvious to him like a scorching wound that refused to heal. 

"And that is why I cannot stay." Estel reasoned, his voice drifting on the sails of a small gust of wind. "I will do nothing more than cause trouble and unnecessary sorrow to them." The memory of the previous day's mishap came flooding back into his mind, forcing the youth to shut his eyes.

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"The horses need neither whips nor scorn to make them run like the western winds." Elladan coached to his human brother who sat on top of a large gray speckled stallion.

Estel looked down at the dark haired elf, lightly stroking Feäbrêg's - his steed - defined neck. "Yes, brother, you have told me this many times." A light laugh escaped the teenager's lips.

"But every time it seems to do no more good than the last!" Elladan exclaimed, folding his arms in offense. "You must communicate with the horse, not command it, Estel!"

"Fine." Estel agreed, growing impatient with the lesson. "I will do it your way." Leaning down, the adolescent spoke gentle Elvish into the stallion's twitching ear. A snort abruptly flew from the animal, and without further warning, the horse reared up, sending the unprepared human tumbling to the ground in a tangled mess.

With concern, Elladan hurried to where his adopted brother lay disheveled in the dirt, hoping that no injury was produced from the fall. Upon reaching the youth's side, Elladan extended a hand to help Estel from the ground. The human's gray eyes, clouded with humiliation and failure, flashed up and met with the elf's own dark eyes. 

Estel pushed his brother's hand away and with a grunt pushed himself up from the dirt. His dark clothing was coated with a light shade of sandy dust. A feeling of self-resentment coursed through his veins like an inferno. Why did he have to be such a human_? He couldn't even properly communicate with the horses, even though he knew his Sindarin to be practically flawless. _

"Roch deleb!" Estel erupted, his eyes shooting daggers at the gloating stallion that stood several feet away.

"Estel, you must be patient." Elladan attempted to soothe the fuming black-haired human. "Feäbrêg is a animated spirit – do not take his antics so personally."

Estel turned to his brother, his eyes shinning with the anger of defeat. "Aye, that is so easy for you to say, Elladan! You are an elf and the animals listen to you! But me? I am a human! A filthy adan! I live my life here, pretending to be everything that I am not and wishing for everything that I could be! Even this abominable beast thinks me a joke."

A look of hurt flashed in the elf's dark eyes, but was quickly covered. "Estel, please do not become upset. Being of a different race has nothing to do with this - you are merely young. You will learn, my brother. Never think of yourself as being anything less than we are. As far as I am concerned you are as much of a brother to me as Elrohir." The elven son of Elrond cautiously reached out to Estel.

Estel watched his brother with a scrupulous gaze before dodging away from the elf's touch. He looked down to the dusty ground, his dark hair tumbling in front of his face. He remained that way for a few moments before slowly allowing his head to move up. He met the concerned gaze of Elladan, slowly shaking his head. "But facts remain, my lord."

Elladan bit back a gasp as Estel used the title, feeling as though he had been struck. "Estel…" He began, not knowing what to say to the teen's sudden grief. "Please, do not refer to me as such." He quietly pleaded. "I am your brother, nothing more."

Estel didn't respond and simply stared at the shocked elf with remorse-filled ashen eyes. After several seconds of silence, he turned and walked quietly away, leaving Elladan standing by the horse.

Estel reopened his eyes, trying to push the feeling of defeat away from his spirit. Since that incident, his mind had been made up. Escaping from the kingdom of Imladris would simply be the best for all. The idea had immerged in his mind before, but it seemed like the only remaining option now. Lord Elrond had been more than charitable by taking the young human in after his mother and father's untimely deaths. However, he had done more than was necessary and Estel could no longer expect him to bear the burden of caring for a worthless adan. 

The young man took one last look around the land that for so long he had called home. It was time for him to leave and rid the Noldor elves of the burden that they had accepted by taking him in. With a burst of resolve, Estel quickly moved back to his bed and latched the flap of his knapsack tightly and swung it onto his back. Carefully, he removed a crisply folded letter from the inside of his heavy jacket. For several lingering moments he held it tightly in his hands before placing the paper emphatically on the foot of his unused bed. 

With silent footsteps, Estel made his way back out to the balcony. The determined light of the moon silhouetted him, seeming to illuminate his very being. He swung himself onto the opposite side of the railing and began to painstakingly maneuver himself down to the ground fifteen feet below. Before he disappeared into the dark concealment of the night he quietly whispered one final farewell.

"Namarië." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Elrond looked up from reading history of the First Age and glanced toward the staircase. The bright morning sun darted in through the windows of the Last Homely House, lighting up the carefully polished wooden floorboards. The Lord of Imladris knew that it was strangely late for Estel not to be up yet. Normally the young human would be up before the sun's first beams pierced the horizon. 

Sighing, Elrond set the massive volume of history aside and began to move toward the staircase. The last time that Estel had not been up at this time of the morning, he had been struck down with a vicious case of the flu. As the dark-haired lord reached the door that led into his human son's room he hesitated, listening. A crease of uneasiness appeared on the elf's forehead, as he could perceive no sound from the room. He knocked twice and paused, waiting to see if the silence would be broken. Elrond lowered his eyebrows when there was no response from behind the heavy wooden door.

Turning the smooth brass handle, Elrond slowly pushed the door open, unsure of what to expect upon entrance. Stepping in, the elf's eyes scanned the expanse of the room. Nothing. A warm morning breeze floated in through the window, carrying the blithe chattering of the birds. Upon inspecting the seemingly empty room again, Elrond's eyes fell upon an envelope sitting lightly on the end of Estel's bed.

Silently, he lowered himself to sit on the foot of the large bed and reached out with one hand to grasp the envelope. Elrond quickly opened it, a premonition of apprehension flowing into his marrow. His dark eyes scanned the briskly scrawled words that had been etched upon the paper. Several times he reread it, so involved that he didn't hear the footsteps of his twin sons as they entered the chamber.

"Ada?" Elrohir's voice caused Elrond to quickly glance up. 

Closing the paper into the palm of his hand, Elrond stood up, acknowledging the presence of the other elves. "What is it, my sons?"

"We were just coming up to see where Estel was. He is already quite late for his archery lesson and I must say that Maeglaurë is growing rather impatient. He gets rather irritable when he is forced to wait and I for one do not wish to take the fall for Estel this time." Elladan grinned.

"Do not blame your own chastisement on Estel. You had earned that cuff on the back of the head on your own, if my memory serves me correctly. Calling the archery master names behind his back was not a wise decision. I always knew that I inherited all of the intellect between the both of us." Elrohir noted, raising a single eyebrow for effect.

Elladan gaped at his twin, a look of insulted nature creeping across his face. "You may have inherited the brains, but I inherited the looks for the both of us."

"Aí Elladan, we are identical twins! Would you care for me to explain to you what exactly that means, or would the rationalization be lost on your thick skull?" Elrohir bit back, exasperated.

Elladan was thinking rapidly, attempting to find the perfect retort when he began to question his father's abnormal silence. Taking his mind away from the argument he had been engaging in, Elladan turned to where his father stood, his eyes staring off in another direction. "Ada?"

Elrond blinked, looking back toward his twins. "I am sorry, what is it that you wanted?"

Narrowing his eyes, Elrohir advanced toward his father. Lord Elrond was never distracted unless something was truly amiss. "Father, what is wrong? You are acting strangely."

The letter that was held in the Elven Lord's hand was raised again and unfolded as Elrond read over it once again. His penetrating eyes moved away from the letter and locked with those of Elladan and Elrohir. "I was afraid something like this would happen someday." His voice was subdued, almost lacking emotion.

Elladan lowered his eyebrows, confusion crossing his fair face. "Ada, do not speak so vaguely. Please tell us what is going on."

Imperceptibly, Elrond moved closer to where his sons stood. Holding the letter out, he allowed Elrohir to take it. "It is Estel. He has run away."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Estel pulled his dark coat tighter around his somewhat slender form. At sixteen, he was just beginning to gain a more grown physique. However, there was still a boyish gangling look to him that gave away his age. His gray eyes flitted in several directions. He knew that the forests of Rivendell stretched on for quite some time, but at the edges there were several habitations and towns were Men lived.

Sighing, Estel sat down, flinging his pack to his feet. He had been walking for the entire night and now it was well into the morning hours. Squinting towards the sky, he would even guess that it was nearing mid-day. The sun had trekked well toward the peak of the sky, no longer hanging in the east as it had several hours before.

"I hate this." He ruefully muttered, noting how his feet were throbbing in dissent to the large amount of walking they had been forced to do. He pulled off one boot and lightly massaged the foot with his hands, hoping to try and make some of the pain go away. "I should have taken a horse." He muttered sourly to the trees. Thoughts of Feäbrêg crossed the teenager's mind and he quickly shook his head. "Never mind. I forgot. I hate horses."

Letting his foot go he replaced it back into the boot. Of late, he had been so perplexed with his situation. Living with the Rivendell elves was more than he could have ever asked for. However, there were still dark spots that stained his mind when he thought of all the anguish he had to endure, being the only human in Imladris. He was never fast enough, graceful enough, smart enough, or brave enough. It hurt him everyday to look at the twins and see how much more they excelled at everything in comparison to himself. It amazed him that Elrond could even look at him without cringing sometimes.

"They are everything that I am not." Estel sadly summarized. "I have made the right choice. They simply do not need my inadequacies – all I have done is hinder their ways." He picked absently at his filthy fingernails. If he kept telling himself that what he was doing was right, then why did it feel so wrong?

Lost in his thoughts, Estel failed to notice the ominous hushed silence that had enveloped the forest surrounding him. The birds had fallen mute and the animated chatter between the squirrels and chipmunks had ceased. The only sound that remained was the whispering of the green leaves that towered high above the young human's head.

It was only when a low growl cut through the quiet that Estel began to notice the foreboding atmosphere that had surrounded the entire area. He quickly stood, pulling his pack once again onto his back. The hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up in a fearful premonition. The silence was like a blazing alarm to the young adan, for when the woods fell silent, something dark was at hand.

Hardly daring to blink, Estel reached instinctively to his side only to grasp the open air. His head snapped down and he let out a spiteful curse. In his impulsive departure the night before, he had left his sword at his home in Rivendell. _How can I possibly be so senseless?_ He silently berated himself for his forgetfulness. His entire being was screaming at him now to leave – the danger was obviously drawing too close, and with no way to defend himself from whatever was approaching, Estel was as good as dead. 

A howl pierced the air from what seemed to be only feet away. The sixteen-year-old's eyes widened in panic. Wolves. Wildly, he glanced in every direction, but there was only more forest that stretched on for what he perceived to be an eternity. Estel's heart began to pound in his ears as the impending panic began to grown into flat out hysteria. He was defenseless and alone, a terrible combination.

Left with no other options, the teenager began to run away from where the howl had sounded. As soon as he began to move, the woods around him filled with answering howls and snarls. The youth skidded to a stop as another defined howl sounded directly in front of him. They were surrounding him! 

"Oh Valar." Estel whispered as the realization of his situation began to sink in. The wolves were on the hunt and he was their prey. It was obvious that they were working as a pack in order to bring him down. He remembered Elrond speaking several times about the hunting habits of the wolves; they would chase the quarry in one direction, leading them directly into the other half of the group.

It was then that a large wolf seemed to simply appear out of the maze of trees, his swagger confident and dominating. Estel began to stumble backward, terrified by the emergence of the great animal. Another low growl sent the adolescent spinning in the opposite direction, where another group of four wolves stood, blocking any escape that had been possible in that direction. Estel roughly swallowed, his mouth growing increasingly dry as his pulse raced in terror. Turning his head, he saw that five others had now joined the lone wolf in front. That meant that ten ravenous wolves now surrounded him. 

Estel stood absolutely frozen, his mind paralyzed in the terror of his situation. He couldn't possibly fight the beasts without any weaponry and they were closing fast upon him. Estel could practically feel his time slipping away from him and disappearing into the air. There was no longer any choice of running as the wolves had quickly cut off any escape route on the ground. Now less than ten feet of open ground seperated Estel and the wolves. As the teen closed his eyes in resignation, an idea burst into his mind. 

However, there was no time to think, as the alpha wolf made a leap for its surrounded prey. Instinctively, Estel leaded up, his hands groping for anything to take him away from his certain doom. To his surprise, his fingers caught the rough outer bark of a branch hanging above. Instantly he began to pull himself up into the tree where the wolves would not be able to touch him. As excited thoughts of escape entered into Estel's mind, a sudden searing pain in his left calf nearly caused him to loosen his grip entirely on his life-saving branch.

Glancing down, Estel stared in horror at one of the wolves that had leaped up and taken a hold of the human's leg with his discolored fangs. His breath came haltingly as waves of pain swept through his young body, methodically weakening his grip on the branch. Estel knew that he couldn't hold on much longer; the weight of the wolf was quickly bearing down upon him. Silently he began to send up a prayer to the Valar, wishing for the safety of his brothers and father. 

In the matter of a split second, Estel's hands slipped from their grip on the tree branch, and the teenager tumbled to the ground, hitting his head on the tree trunk and surrounded by the pack of wolves. Shutting his eyes, Estel threw up his hands to his neck in face in an attempt to evade the impending attack. However, the attack never happened. Something was wrong, that much the sixteen-year-old could tell.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, afraid to see what had prevented the wolves from making their killing assault. The largest wolf had moved away, and Estel could see the fur on its back standing on end, bristled in warning. A low growl issued from its throat and lips had curled back, revealing the yellowed, but deadly, fangs. Estel followed the wolf's attention and saw two more unfamiliar wolves standing yards away from where the pack stood. They had become attracted to the area by the loud howls and sounds of pursuit that had echoed across the forests.

__

What's going on? Estel wondered, curiosity attempting to overcome fear. The rest of the pack glanced uneasily between their leader and Estel, unsure of what to do now. An imminent fight could possibly change the entire pack order if the current alpha male were to lose. So they stood, still surrounding Estel, but their focus remained locked on the leader and the two male intruders. 

Suddenly, one of the strange wolves dove after the alpha male, lunging low in an attempt to rip at the alpha male's jugular vein. Jumping back, the larger alpha bared his teeth again and went in on an offensive, successfully clamping onto the smaller male's back leg. Estel couldn't help but cringe as a distinct crack was heard as the large male crunched the bone with his powerful jaws and an anguished yelp escaped the lesser wolf. 

Attracted by the fight, the rest of the wolves quickly abandoned Estel, who still lay at the base of the tree and surrounded the area where the three wolves were now locked into a life versus death battle. Noticing the lack of attentiveness, Estel quickly took advantage of this circumstantial opportunity and struggled to his feet. His head swirled and his left leg throbbed mercilessly, but he forced himself to remain upright. Glancing up, he saw the branch again and made a leap for it. In the tree he would be safe from the wolves, but on the ground he did not stand a chance. 

His fingers brushed the branch that hung temptingly above him, but failed to grab a hold. When he landed on the ground, his left leg nearly crumpled beneath him, not able to deal with the impact it had been dealt. Steadying himself, Estel had to ignore the screaming pain that surged anew in his leg. This next leap was it. If he missed, he knew his leg would not allow him another chance to try.

Focusing all his strength on the branch, Estel launched himself upwards, prepared to wrap his hands around the branch. His hands made contact at the top of the branch and securely locked. Using all of his upper arm power, his managed to pull his body up into the tree, where he sat panting in exhaustion. Below him, he could still here the battle below, although it sounded as though one side had begun to lose, for the sidelines of the pack had begun to close in on the fight. Soon one wolf would meet his doom.

Sighing, Estel scooted toward the main base of the tree trunk and propped himself against it, trying to lock himself into place. Ever since a rather unfortunate accident when he had been younger, trees had not been his favorite dwellings. Estel smiled, remembering how much trouble Elladan and Elrohir had gotten into for allowing him to go as high as he did. As the memory faded, reality settled in, heavier than ever. He was miles from Imladris and sat up in a tree, surrounded by battling and voracious wolves. To top it off, his leg was nicely mangled from the strong hold the wolf had gotten in his calf. Carefully laying the leg flat out, Estel attempted to inspect it. The injury itself was hard to decipher, as both the flowing crimson blood and tattered black pants leg blocked any clear view. 

Leaning his head back against the rough trunk of the tree, Estel closed his eyes, unsure of what to do now. A single thought ran through his mind. _I want to go home._

****

TBC…

__

Translations:

Feäbrêg – Wild Spirit

Roch deleb – loathsome horse

Maeglaurë's name literally means 'piercing gold'.


	3. To Finally Come Home Part II

Author's Note: I know this takes me a long time to get these parts out, but you have to understand that I read and reread my own stories repeatedly to make sure there are no obvious errors existing and that I don't sound stupid. If _I_ sound stupid to me, I can't even imagine what it looks like to readers. Anyway, here's the next part of To Finally Come Home. Enjoy!

Written by: Pinto

****

To Finally Come Home

Part II 

"Elrohir!" Elladan's voice rang out from the back of the stables.

The other dark haired twin glanced up from his horse upon hearing his brother's cry. "What is it?" He barely managed to contain the growing frustration in his voice.

"You made sure to pack the extra herbs, right?" 

Clamping his teeth tightly together, Elrohir struggled not to shout out at his brother. "_Yes_, Elladan! The herbs have not unpacked themselves from the last time you asked…_five_ minutes ago!"

Elrohir received no response except the soft clopping of hooves on the packed dirt floor. Glancing up from his pack, he saw Elladan leading Feäbrêg forward. The duo stopped a few feet in front of where Elrohir was still bent over, checking the packs one final time. "I'm sorry, Elrohir. It's just that I wish to be ready, in case…" He trailed off, not wanting to think about the possibility of his adoptive brother being hurt.

Regretting his frustration with his brother, Elrohir stood up and placed an arm on Elladan's shoulder. "I know. We will find him." Noting the look of uncertainty in his twin's eyes, he reiterated himself more confidently. "We _will_."

For encouragement, he let a smile briefly appear on his face. "Come now, get your pack. We must be on our way; the sun grows heavy in the west."

"And where exactly do the sons of Lord Elrond intend on going?"

A familiar voice broke the nervous tension and both Elladan and Elrohir quickly looked to the stable entrance. "Legolas!" Elrohir smiled openly, moving quickly to where the blonde wood-elf leaned against the frame of the stable. He bowed customarily to the Mirkwood heir. "What business brings you to Rivendell, my friend?"

"I have come to relay the seasonal report of Mirkwood regarding the spiders and other foul creatures to the Lord of Imladris." He paused, coolly lifting a single eyebrow. "Not to mention I believe I needed to escape the palace for a few days before my father took it upon himself to kill me."

"Kill you?" Elladan had come up behind his twin at this point. "What exactly is driving the good king of Mirkwood to such measures?" Two pairs of knowing, dark eyes stared accusingly at Legolas.

The blonde elf could not help himself and smiled broadly. "Perhaps there was a small fraction of antagonistic action on my behalf, but otherwise I would proclaim his behavior rather unorthodox." He looked innocently toward the suddenly interesting stable rafters.

"The last time you said that, dear Legolas, was when somehow an entire nest of spiders somehow managed to decorate your father's Throne Room with spider silk." Elladan folded his arms across his chest, a mirthful smile overcoming his otherwise darkened features.

Legolas' gaze drifted down and landed on the smiling twins. "Ah, yes." He paused, looking reflective. "But we regress. Where do you two plan on journeying so late in the day?" He quickly averted the incriminating conversation back to the sons of Elrond.

As the smiles immediately melted off the faces of Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas' eyebrows lowered, concern taking his own smile away from his face. _Have I said something wrong?_ He wondered, noting the uncharacteristically dismal appearances of the twins' faces.

The silence stretched on for several moments before Elrohir looked back up at the Sindar. "It is Estel. We are about to leave in search of him."

Legolas processed this information. He had met Estel once before, but the boy had been quite young and Legolas hadn't taken a large amount of concern in him. "What has happened?" He questioned cautiously.

"I am afraid he had run off sometime last night. He left a note and departed through his window." Elladan's voice was quieter than usual. "We must find him."

Standing up straighter and abandoning his leaning position on the edge of the stable, Legolas paused before asking the next question. "Why has he run?"

Elladan sighed with a flash of guilt in the dark brown of his eyes. "He felt he was not worthy to live in Rivendell, that he was simply a hindrance. That is according to the letter that he left."

Legolas was beginning to feel like an interrogator, but he simply did not fully understand the situation yet. "But why would he say that?"

Elrohir spoke up this time. "Ada said that Estel was going through a period that is especially difficult for humans. In addition, Legolas, Estel was the only adan growing up in Imladris. A boy among elves, and he felt imperfect."

The wood-elf looked at the worried faces of his friends and quickly made up his mind. "Then I will help you find him." 

"Legolas, you don't have to…" Elladan began, but was abruptly cut off by the grim smile of the blonde elf.

"He is your brother." Legolas simply stated, the smile fading into seriousness. "What sort of friend would I count myself to be, if I do not help out the kin of my friends?"

"A smart one." Elrohir lightly jested. "I know that you do not know Estel very well, mellonin, so you are by no means required to assist."

Legolas nodded solemnly. "Requirement is never the motivation behind my actions, Elrohir. It is by my care to you both as friends that I wish to help." He paused, looking at the slowly falling sun in the distance. "But it is important that we leave soon. The sun begins to settle in the western skies."

Elladan had moved further back into the stable, leaving Feäbrêg with Elrohir, in order to bring Legolas a fresh steed. "You will ride Gwanthi – she will prove faithful and true." The twin came forward again, followed by a strongly defined dappled gray mare. Her mane was silver like the sparkling frost of winter mornings, but her eyes darker than the depths of the distant oceans.

"Mae govannen, Gwanthi." Legolas quietly murmured, his thin hand gently stroking the mare's muscled neck. In return he received a contented whicker. 

"Legolas son of Thranduil." A voice once again surprised the three elves from the entrance to the stables. 

Legolas quickly jerked his head away from the horse and met eyes with Lord Elrond. The Sindar respectfully bowed to the Lord of Rivendell. "My lord."

"I see that you have successfully searched out my sons." The haunting of a smile passed over the elven lord's somber face. "What brings you to Imladris, Legolas?"

"The seasonal report, Lord Elrond." Legolas stopped himself there. He saw no reason to mention the other half of his reasoning for journeying to Rivendell.

A true smile, albeit short lived, graced Elrond's face. "And one would suppose that your journey has no ulterior purposes?"

"Of course not, my lord." The smirk on the blonde elf's face quickly gave him away.

"I realize that I am far better off not knowing, young heir." Elrond shook his head mirthfully.

"Aye, my lord, but I also bring a request to join your sons journey." Legolas's pristine face turned serious once more. "I wish to help."

Lord Elrond's face became somber at the mention of the search. "I see my sons have informed you of events that have transpired of late here?" The blonde elf before him nodded. "I will not prevent you from joining Elladan and Elrohir, but it is a direct ordinance that you do not get yourself injured. I do not wish to explain to Thranduil why his only son comes home in bandages." 

"Nay, my lord, I promise you that no such message will be necessary. I simply wish to help." Legolas' face remained serious.

Sighing, Elrond nodded. "I know better than to try and stop you. I appreciate your willingness to help, Thranduilion." He paused again and looked at the anxious faces of his twin sons. "And as for you, Elladan and Elrohir, I do not want you coming home in need of bandaging either. Now tarry no longer. Off with you!" He swatted at the air with his hand for effect.

Elladan smiled and glanced at Elrohir who nodded knowingly. Without anymore warning, the twins raced over to Elrond and nearly bowled him over as they hugged him. "Don't worry, Ada, we'll be back soon!"

Lord Elrond could not hide the choked laughter that came from his throat. "Yes, my sons, I believe you both. But unless you release my neck from your steel grip, I will not be here when you return!" As the identical elves drew away, a laughing sparkle entered the older elf's eyes. "I do not think I need to worry about either of you, seeing as you have a grip that could choke a balrog."

A cheeky grin appeared on Elladan's face at his father's comment. "See, Father? We're perfectly capable elves!"

The Lord of Rivendell slowly shook his head. "That is not what I said, elfling." Before the insulted mahogany haired elf could defend himself against being considered an elfling, Elrond spoke again. "Now, you must go if you wish to leave this night. Evening is nigh."

Legolas stepped forward, wrapping one arm around the shoulders of Elladan and the other around Elrohir, effectively moving them in the direction of their horses. He glanced back at the Elven Lord, a smile sparkling in his ashen eyes. "Aye, Lord Elrond, we shall be on our way." 

"Thank you Legolas. I expect you all to return safely." Lord Elrond bowed slightly, his own dark hair slipping forward and briefly hiding his dark, piercing eyes.

As all three mounted the waiting horses, a wave a sobering reality weighed down once again. "We will bring Estel back, Father." Elrohir spoke with assurance. Without waiting any longer, the trio of eldalië urged their horses into a canter, disappearing into the forests of Rivendell.

The elven lord stood motionlessly for a few moments, watching the younger elves depart. "I know you will." He quietly answered to the silence. "I know."

~*~*~*~*~

Estel jolted out of his pained sleep as he felt his body lose its balance on the branch he was sitting on. His hands grasped out franticly for whatever they could find. Gripping the branch beneath him, Estel managed to collect himself and avoid tumbling from the branches.

The teenager leaned back slightly, trying to calm his jagged breathing. The night had grown bitterly cold as the approaching autumn had settled her icy clutch on the land. His breaths puffed out in small, condensed clouds, floating off into the dark of the night. At this point, Estel had not been able to feel his injured leg for several hours as the cold had dulled it to numbness. 

No longer could the youth find a comfortable position in the knobby heights of the branches - if comfortable could even be applied in this sort of situation. A despondent sigh escaped the teenager's frigid lips. It had been hours since the wolves had wandered off, readjusting their pack due to the change of leader. The old alpha male leader had been defeated by the two younger wolves and had forcibly fled his pack. For this Estel was glad, but gloom was seeping into his heart.

"What have I gotten myself into?" He softly questioned to the darkness around him. Estel's body trembled from the frosty air, but in the distance, streaks of light purple and deep pinks began to stain the eastern horizon. "Sunrise grows near and I cannot stay here in this tree forever." 

Gritting his teeth, Estel pushed himself back against the rough trunk of the tree. He struggled to swing his good leg across the branch that he straddled, but with a little effort he was soon sitting sideways on the limb. His breath came out in strangled gasps as the feeling decided to return to his injured leg with a vengeance. Pain coursed up and down the appendage and unconsciously Estel dug his fingernails into the soft skin of his palm.

With no other available options, the sixteen-year-old adan pushed himself off the branch that he had perched on, quickly looping his arms around the girth, quickly halting his fall. He hung for several seconds, questioning the sanity of his plan to remove himself from the branches of the tree. At least three feet divided his body from the forest floor. Normally, this would be no issue; however, Estel currently was dealing with a nearly useless leg that was not entirely willing to support his body.

"Here goes nothing." Estel muttered, tightly shutting his eyes and releasing his grip on the tree.

The fall was short, but the minute his legs hit the ground, his injured left leg collapsed beneath him. The teenager's eyes flashed wide open, tears involuntarily springing to their lids. The pain erupted like fervid fireworks, briefly sending a flash of red across Estel's vision. 

"By Eru…" His voice faltered as Estel try to cover up a pain filled groan. As he tried to move into a more compromising position, the throbbing pain in his leg flared up again. In order to stifle an impending cry, Estel placed his index finger in his mouth and roughly bit down. That pain provided enough distraction to his mind to prevent him from howling out his hurt. 

A metallic ring suddenly ensnared Estel's attention. His gaze moved toward a clearing that was but twenty feet away. There stood a young man – Estel doubted that the boy was much older than himself. In his hand was a long, lethal looking sword, directed towards Estel.

"Who are you?" The young man's voice sounded as though he was attempting to force more roughness into it than what normally existed. Estel stared silently at the other teenager. His copper-tinged hair hung several inches above his shoulders. Confused hazel eyes met with Estel's own gray eyes before quickly breaking the gaze. However, despite the seemingly small age difference, this youth was much more broadly built. 

Taking a step forward and holding the sword unwavering, the teenager questioned Estel once more. "I repeat myself, who are you, stranger?"

Estel took several shallow breaths, still trying to push down the overwhelming throb in his mangled leg. "Estel." There was no need to reveal any more. The young adan felt uncomfortable with the current situation, but was rather indisposed to do anything to change it.

The older teenager visibly narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing every inch of the other Man. Something seemed wrong about him; he wore strange clothes that seemed to fuse in with the surroundings. Never before had he seen garments that blended so well. Only in tales…

"Are you an Elf?" Some of the coarseness lifted from the teen's voice, replaced by the hint of wonderment. 

Estel coughed back a scoff. "Me?" He turned his head slightly, his dark hair falling over his eyes. "I am no Elf."

"You do not wear the clothes of Men nor do you look like the Edain of the hunting parties. Your name is not normal. Where do you hail from?" As the older teen questioned, he slowly re-sheathed his dark sword, his curiosity overcoming his suspicion.

Blinking, Estel choked back his instinctive answer before answering. "Nowhere."

Unbelieving eyebrows were raised at the answer. Before the boy could reply, Estel jerked at the sound of a harsh voice and accompanying feet crashing through the woods. "My father!" The copper-haired youth's eyes widened and he glanced at the injured Estel. 

Before any more words could be exchanged between the two, a much older and more frightening Man burst into the clearing. His eyes were ablaze and within seconds they settled upon the standing teenager who suddenly looked much younger than a few moments before.

"Father, I can explain." The young man struggled to stay strong, but his voice wavered in impending dread. "Please, just allow me to –"

Before the chestnut-haired teenager could finish his sentence, he found himself roughly struck across the face, snapping his head to the side with a crack. "You will explain _nothing_, Burnin. You have disobeyed me, once again! Were you not commanded not to leave camp without permission?"

Without looking up, Burnin nodded. His hair hung down and he covered the spot where he had been struck with his hand.

"Fool of a boy." The father's voice was cold, devoid of any remorse.

Estel inwardly cringed as the frigid gaze was redirected at him. "What do we have here?" Dark brown eyes, bordering on black, stared at the sixteen-year-old.

In a few short strides, Burnin's father reached the spot where Estel still sat on the ground. The large man tightly grasped the material of Estel's tunic and physically forced him onto his feet. Unable to put weight on his injured leg, Estel involuntarily let out a cry and began to collapse again. 

"No you don't." The large man tightened his grip on the soft fabric of Estel's slate blue tunic and pulled him up again. Without warning, he slammed him back into the trunk of the tree. Caught unawares, Estel's skull collided with the solid trunk of the tree, sending an explosion of stars into action behind his eyelids.

Pinned against the tree and knocked half-senseless, there was little Estel could do to protect himself. Dark eyes stared at the teenager, narrowing in suspicion. "It's a damned Elf." 

Struggling not to slip into merciful unconsciousness, Estel vaguely shook his head. "Not an Elf…" He whispered hoarsely, unable to speak any louder without creating more havoc regarding the beating of drums in his head.

Angered at the disagreement that the boy issued, Burnin's father roughly brushed back the hair from Estel's face. He stared sharply at the teenager's ears for several moments before looking Estel in the face once more. "What sort of half-breed are you?" 

Estel's mouth opened to answer, but no words came out. He didn't know what he was. The realization made him feel even more nauseous, if that were possible.

"Burnin!" The man's voice was so thunderous that Estel couldn't help but cringe away from its harsh sound. "Come here, boy!"

The other teen appeared alongside his father, a blatant flaming red mark serving as a reminder as to where he had been struck. "What do you wish, Father?" Burnin's eyes stayed focused on the ground, his copper hair sweeping in front of his face.

"It's time to redeem yourself." There was a chilling tone in his voice that made Estel cringe. The copper-headed Burnin looked up slowly, his light brown eyes full of questions. 

"Take out your sword." The simple command made the trapped adan's stomach drop to his feet.

Burnin's jaw dropped slightly, but almost automatically his sword was unsheathed, ringing ominously in the forest air. The teenager stared at it for a moment, his thoughts wavering back and forth. Slowly he met his father's expectant gaze. "But Father, we simply cannot commit cold-blooded murder. We already hunt in the realms of elves and I fear we may anger them further by an action such as this." The youth scrambled for some plausible excuse – anything to prevent the task his father had commanded of him.

The older man reached out and gripped Burnin's shoulder tightly and shook him lightly. "Then so be it! The elves have simply been trying to destroy the race of Men since our forefathers awakened so long ago. What cares should we have in their worries and concerns? They speak lies of Valar and gods – such things to try and frighten us back into the east. I care not if we anger them; this boy is none of their concern." *

Burnin opened and closed his mouth helplessly a few times, words escaping his grasp. "I cannot, Father. I am sorry, but I cannot do such a thing." The blazon-haired teen resolutely allowed his sword to fall loosely from his grasp and hit the forest floor with a dull thud.

His father stared with disbelief at his son. "You are no son of mine!" His hissed through clenched teeth, his dark eyes once again nearly glowing with rage. His grip released Estel, sending the pained teenager collapsing once again to the ground with a weak groan. "I will teach you to disobey a father's order, and you will forever think twice before opening your imbecilic mouth again!" 

As Burnin's father raised a fist to strike down his own son, a carefully aimed arrow hurtled narrowly over his right shoulder, ripping through the thick material before embedding itself in the tree trunk behind him. His hand slowly dropped as he glanced as the still wobbling shaft that was firmly implanted in the wood behind him.

"It would be advisable to not strike the child again." A cold voice caught the attention of all three men. On the top of a small hill stood a lean, fair figure, holding a bow carefully re-notched with another arrow. Flaxen hair was drawn behind the being's back, hiding the full quiver that hung on his shoulder.

Shaking off the stunned expression on his face, Burnin's father replaced it with one of pure contempt. "Who are you to tell me what to do, _elf_?" 

"Who are you to encroach the fair forests of the Lord of Rivendell, human?" The Quendi's voice matched the tone of the Man.

Estel had slowly recognized the elf that currently was facing off with his attacker. Only once or twice had he met this elf, but his appearance was unmistakable. "Legolas…" He managed to whisper, trying to push himself up.

A malicious grin spread over the face of Burnin's father as he realized that the strange teenager knew this elf. Faster than what Legolas could expect, the older man grabbed Estel and was within seconds holding a sharp blade beneath his chin. "Ready to die, mongrel?" 

****

TBC 

~* I know, I know! I promised two parts, but this thing keeps growing on me! Plus, who am I to resist a good cliff-hanger? ::angelic smile:: Okay, my new goal is to finish this thing in three parts, which I am confident that I can do. Possibly. That is unless some plot bunny attacks the premises of the story, then I have no control. Plot bunnies are vicious things and you don't want to mess with them….

Translations:

Feäbrêg – Wild Spirit

Gwanthi – Beauty

Mellonin – My friend

Eldalië – This is simply another word for elves (plural form). Tolkien gives an abundance of names to everything. Let's not even get started on the many names for Men. Aí!

Quendi – Yep, once again, just means elf.

Adan – Yes, the singular word for Man. One of many names given to the Men of Arda.

Edain – Just the plural of Adan. Ah, the greatness of Elvish grammar rules…

* This reference was made in accordance to some of the tales of the _Silmarillion_. In them, several of the houses of the edain believe that the elves are simply lying about the West and the Valar in an attempt to rule Middle-earth as their own. This was not any of the three recognized houses of edain however, but I am writing in the belief that Burnin's kin belong to these other houses. It is a simple conjecture – don't burst a hernia over it!


	4. To Finally Come Home Part IIIConclusion

Author's Notes: 

Ah ha! I bet you all had lost hope that this ever would arrive, didn't you? Come now, I surely wouldn't leave people without at LEAST finishing this, would I? Sorry, I know it takes me forever to update, and I truly apologize for that. I've just been busy with graduation and college orientation/class registration. Such a busy time! Sadly, that left little time for writing this and getting it up. But anyhow, it is, so no more complaints! It has more action! More adventure! And most importantly, more elvish! *grins widely* 

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Additional Note: Oh! Yes, also, I would like to note that my interpretation of how Aragorn grew up in Rivendell is inspired by the story of Túrin and of the Elf king, Thingol, who reigned in Doriath. (Story is from the Silmarillion when Beleriand was still in tact. Genius, that Tolkien was!) Their story is very similar to that of Aragorn's (well, minus the whole thing about Túrin's father being captured by Morgoth and his entire family being cursed, but we'll ignore that miniscule detail for now…), and Thingol raised the human Túrin as his own son and loved him greatly. That's how I view Elrond and Aragorn's relationship. Out of respect for Arathorn, Lord Elrond took Aragorn in, but grew to love him as his own. ::steps away from soapbox:: Well. I think that covered it rather thoroughly.

Anyway, I'm thinking that maybe I will drift away from the **Misadventures **series…*horrified gasp from audience*…wait! Let me finish! Anyway, I think I'll drift away from this for a little while, because I hope to get a full-length story started soon. I'll make sure to always stay a few chapters ahead, just to assure that I can update at a semi-regular interval. Let me know what you think of that idea in the reviews. Speaking of reviews, did I ever mention that I LOVE reviews? I mean REALLY love reviews? I hope this incredibly large hint is hitting home for you guys. *innocent smile* PLEASE review! Please? I seriously love to hear from everyone that reads, regardless of your thoughts on the story! Anyway, I'll stop my pathetic groveling now and allow you all to finish the conclusion to:

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To Finally Come Home:

Part III

Estel sucked in a startled breath as the cold, biting edge of the knife pressed against the vulnerable flesh of his neck. The large man's face was close enough to Estel's own that his warm breath coursed into the teenager's face. The young adan struggled to not recoil from the strong scent of whiskey that reeked from the man. Estel restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the strangely placed satire that was taking place. _Leave it up to me to find myself caught by a drunken, elf-hating man._

Upon deciding that remaining on that track of thought was a bad idea, Estel averted his attention back to Legolas, who stood motionless on the hill from where he had originally appeared. His bow was still pulled tautly, and from what Estel could tell, the elf had no intentions of withdrawing the arrow from its position.

"This is none of your business Elf!" The man shouted, consequently pushing the knife harder again Estel's throat. "Leave us be and go back to whatever tree you arrived from!"

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Ilúvatar! Estel thought in disbelief. _I cannot believe this man. He is asking for a death warrant to be simply handed to him._

The emotionless expression remained explicitly concrete on Legolas' face, even as the poorly constructed insults were thrown at him. "There you are wrong, Human. This is indeed business pertaining to me; I do not intend to allow such slaughter under the realm of Rivendell. Rethink your actions. This is my last warning to you."

Estel bit down on his lip as the knife dug further into the skin of his neck, drawing a small rivulet of scarlet blood. He tightly wrenched his eyes shut for a few seconds, attempting to keep himself level and calm. Loosing control now could cost him his life – not a risk he was willing to take.

Burnin's father's grip tightened on Estel as the situation for him grew dire. Estel gasped silently in pain as his leg was contorted back, aggravating the already burning wound. The woods around the teenager felt as though they had escalated one hundred degrees; the intensity of it made Estel's vision blur before him. 

Legolas watched the boy's eyes flutter shut briefly. Upon opening again, the blonde elf could immediately discern the glazed-over gaze that indicated fever. This drunken fool of a man was not accepting any logic, and Legolas was forcefully reminding himself that it was not of elvish conduct to simply kill a man. Although, Legolas thought, in this case perhaps the etiquette could be overridden.

"What right have you to interfere with the concerns of other races?" The human's taunting voice returned in full force. The Sindarin elf clenched his jaw tightly at the irritating voice, an action invisible except to the most observant of eyes. "Do you really believe yourself to be that much higher than the rest of lowly Middle Earth? Elves have been running away from everything that threatens them for years, disappearing to their hallowed Grey Havens. Selfish! That's all you are!"

Separated by several feet from the struggle of wills, Burnin stood in a stunned shock of awe and terror. What was his father doing? This was an elf! One could not simply defy one of the Firstborn; it was certain death. "Father, let him go." Burnin's voice was soft but there was no uneasiness in its tone. 

Wide eyes turned to the other copper-haired teenager. Burnin's father's eyes practically burned with fire. "Whose side are you on?" He hissed venomously.

The teenager did not flinch at the manner that his father spoke to him. "Yours, of course, Father. But this is not worth it – _he_ is not worth your death." Burnin tossed his head at Estel.

A voice from the opposite side of the clearing caught both of the humans by surprise. "Listen to the boy. He seems to have more reasonability than you, Master Human."

Burnin's father turned his head in the opposite direction, looking for the owner of the voice. His sight finally settled upon another elf, but this one looked entirely different from the first. Long, jet-black hair flowed over the lithe creature's shoulders, spilling down his back. His eyes were deep brown, ringed with misty gray and full of intensity. He also held a bow already nocked with an arrow, held even with the man's head.

Estel blearily looked up, trying to focus on the new voice. Although the elf's face did not come entirely into focus, the sixteen-year-old could recognize who this was. "Ell'dan?" He whispered softly. His lips and tongue refused to work properly, blurring the word together.

Concern entered the elf when Estel called him Elladan. Not for many years had the human boy confused Elrohir for his brother. Obviously there was something wrong; he was assuming fever by watching the teen's actions. "_Garo an, Estel, garo an._" His voice was soft and lilting; he could see his foster brother relax slightly at its sound.

Although Burnin's father was indeed a vengeful man, he knew when odds were hopeless. He removed the knife from Estel's throat and shoved the teenager away from him, sending Estel crumpling to the ground. "Don't think this is over." He growled angrily before turning sharply to Burnin. "Get out of here, boy. We're returning to camp."

Stomping ahead, Burnin's father disappeared into the woods. However, Burnin stood for a few more moments, looking at both Legolas and Elrohir. "I – I'm sorry." He whispered to the elves. His father's infuriated voice called again, and without looking once more at the two elves, Burnin turned and ran off into the dense verdant foliage of the forest.

As soon as the youth disappeared, Elrohir moved quickly forward, kneeling down by Estel. "I am here, Estel." He quietly murmured, gently rolling the dark haired teenager onto his back. Immediately he noticed the dried blood that caked Estel's leggings. "Aí, what happened to you?" The dark-haired elf quietly questioned, running his hands lightly over Estel's body, checking for any less obvious injuries.

Opening his eyes just enough to see, Estel mumbled out a few answers to Elrohir's question. "Wolves…tree…cold…knife…" 

Legolas kneeled down opposite to Elrohir. "Thank the Valar that you arrived when you did, Peredhilion. I was running out of options, short of shooting the man where he stood." 

Elrohir looked up from his human brother and glanced into the face of the blonde wood elf. "That may not have been such a bad option, mellonin. I do not understand their kind sometimes."

A soft smile briefly lit the face of Legolas. "Perhaps not, but do not forget that Estel is of the Second-born."

Elrohir stiffened his lower jaw defensively. "Estel is different than them. I consider him more elvish than of the edain sometimes."

"Yes, that I know, Elrohir. He is among the blessed to have a brother in you." Legolas reached over and set a comforting hand on the Noldor elf.

"You found him!" A familiar voice called. Elrohir looked over his right shoulder to see his twin emerge from the woods. He slowed as he came closer upon where Estel lay. "He is not…?" 

"No, no!" Legolas quickly stopped him. "He is injured, but has not left us. I am assuming that seeing that his leg has been left unattended it has become infected rather severely." His eyes once again scanned the inflamed, carmine skin that surrounded the cut, and a concerned frown deepened his expression.

"Thank Elbereth! I had thought that we were too late." Elladan sighed, releasing a breath. "We must get him back to Imladris and to Father. It is important to move quickly."

Elrohir simply nodded and lay his hand on the dark haired human's forehead. "Estel?" He could feel the heat radiating from the youth's body. After a few moments, Estel's eyes slowly opened, unfocused and glassy. 

"Ada?" His voice had grown considerably weaker and cracked with the effort of speaking. The adrenaline that was sustaining his battered body earlier had drained away, leaving him on the brink of unconsciousness. He reached up, his fingers finding Elrohir's face, where they lightly rested.

"No, Estel, it is I, Elrohir." The older elf's own hands gently covered the human boy's own cold hands. "We're taking you home to Ada now." He sadly looked into the confused gray eyes of the young human. "You'll be all right, _hen_-_neth_."

Elladan kneeled next to his twin brother and looked down at Estel. "Elrohir, what happened to him?" Suspicion grew in his voice as perceptive eyes traced the light stream of blood that had oozed from a fine cut on the teenager's neck.

Before answering, Elrohir smoothly removed Estel's hands from his face, placing them on the boy's chest. He then looked into the face of his elven twin. "I do not know all of what transpired, but when I came there was a human that was threatening to kill Estel. Legolas found him first. If it had not been for him, we may not have been in time to save Estel."

Legolas shook his head refutably. "You give me too much credit Elrohir." 

Elladan reached slowly down, carefully wrapping his arms around the young human, in effect, picking him off the ground. Estel forced his eyes open again, weakly struggling against the action. "I can walk, El'hir." His voice shook and refused to properly form all of the words.

Sighing, Elladan could not help but smile at the boy. "Stop being a stubborn-headed fool, silly human." Inwardly, however, Elladan frowned at the warmth that was illuminating from the young human. He could feel the slight trembling through the fabric of Estel's tunic. The tunic was already damp with the excessive perspiring that had occurred due to the raging fever.

Elrohir glanced at the worried countenance of his brother. "Come, let's not waste more time. Ada will know exactly what to do."

Elladan nodded and cautiously stood, drawing the rangy form of his adoptive brother into his body. A slight groan came from Estel as his leg was accidentally jolted. "I'm sorry, Estel, I know it hurts." Without any response, Estel let his head drop heavily on the protective shoulder of his elven brother.

Silently, Elrohir caught pace with his brother and brought a hand up, letting it lightly rest on the young adan's dark hair. "I wish what I knew you were talking about when you spoke of wolves, Estel. Sometimes I wonder how exactly a being that has hardly learned to walk can possibly get himself into so much trouble."

Legolas had caught up with the trio at this point, a soft smile lighting his face. "I seem to remember two young elflings not so many centuries ago getting into their fair share of mishap." Despite the golden hair that seemed to create a halo about the Sindarin elf's head, Elladan swore that a demon lurked in the fair body.

"Legolas, I would like to point out that both Elladan and myself were well into our sixties before we began to raise any true trouble." Elrohir adamantly stated.

"Yes, my friend, but you must remember that the edain are not granted the gift endless time in which they can raise Mordor. They operate on a limited timeframe; therefore, they must start much earlier in their endeavors to drive Lord Elrond to an early trip to Valinor. I believe our young Estel is making quite impressive progress." The fair-haired elf's maddening smile grew wider.

Elladan sighed again, tightly, but gently, holding his foster brother to his own body. He failed to join in the light banter that his brother and friend were trying to encourage. "You have so much to learn, Estel, and so much to bear. But not yet. Don't begin to grow older before it is necessary, _saes_." He softly whispered, leaning his chin lightly into the soft hair of the teenager. The twin gazed morosely ahead of him as the three elves moved to where the horses were tethered.

Somberly, Elrohir looked at his twin, overhearing his words. Legolas also heard the soft plea to the unconscious youth, but did not understand what Elladan was speaking of – why his tone was so dark. 

"_Al **nef**, _Elladan." Elrohir's words were quiet but understanding. He knew that his twin brother simply was protective of Estel, but Legolas knew not of Estel's true ancestry or past. Although Elrohir trusted the wood elf with his very life, he knew that allowing this secret out to anyone before the time was right could be a deadly mistake that would not be repeated. 

The other dark-haired elf blinked, looking at the reflection image of his brother. "_Iston, iston_…" He broke off as Estel groaned once more in his arms, trying to break free of the engulfing darkness of unconsciousness. "Sh, Estel, do not struggle. We will be back to Ada before you know it."

Legolas decided that it would not be wise to pry further into this issue. Obviously it was something that the twins did not feel comfortable discussing at the time. "Come, my friends. We leave for Imladris." He gracefully mounted his silver steed, almost floating onto her back. Elladan took more time, making sure not to jar his young brother as he climbed onto his own horse's back.

"Let's go home, Estel." Elrohir softly spoke to the teenager from his own horse. "Let's go home."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lord Elrond quietly shut the door behind him, coming face to face with three elves that sat silently in the lounge area outside one of the healing rooms. The ancient elf lord looked at the three faces, no expression coming to his own.

"Will he be all right, Ada?" Elladan was the first to stand up and move toward Elrond. 

The Noldor elf allowed his face to relax and let a reassuring smile briefly pass over his features. "Yes, my son, given a little time, Estel will be fine. He is sleeping now. The infection was caught before it could reach the heart and cause critical damage." He paused for a moment, searching the eyes of both his sons and the prince of Mirkwood. "However, I believe that it also due time for all three of you to take some much needed rest. You have been active without repose for nearly two days."

"But Ada, what about – " The older raven-haired twin was cut off by a single raised hand of Elrond.

"Do not argue with me about this. I promise that I will inform you when Estel awakes, but until then, driving yourself to exhaustion will do no one in this house any good." The elder elf's face clearly showed that there would be no room for discussion in this matter.

Crestfallen, the three younger elves wordlessly filed out of the area, headed toward the chambers of the twins. Elrond's dark, penetrating eyes watched them leave, another smile threatening to play on his lips. _Elflings._ That thought in itself brought a sparkle of mirth to the deep dark of his eyes. After over a thousand years, he could still call them such without thinking twice.

Once the three had gone, Elrond silently entered Estel's room once more. He glided across the polished wooden floors, his heavy robes lightly swishing against one another. A large chair had been carefully maneuvered next to the bed where Estel still lay, lightly breathing in sleep. The elf lord lowered himself into it, his eyes never leaving his youngest child. Though Estel was not of his own, he had grown to love the boy as his own son. 

That thought brought pain into Elrond's eyes. How could Estel think that those of the Last Homely House would not love or want him around? Looking carefully at the features of the teenaged adan, with sudden and shocking clarity, Elrond realized something. Elros. Estel was growing more each day to resemble Lord Elrond's long departed brother. "_Nosse-nin_." Young Aragorn had the same dark features of the great king of the Númenoreans, the same grey, almost elvish eyes. 

As Elrond relieved painful memories, the teenager on the bed forced his eyes open, nearly catching the ancient elf unaware. "Ada?" His voice barely allowed him to croak out the single word.

The elf lord carefully handed Estel a glass of water, making sure that the youth did not attempt to gulp it all down at once. As soon as the boy finished, Elrond took back the mug and quietly set it on a side table. 

As Estel ran over the events that had occurred of recent in his mind, a sudden guilt clouded the bright reflection of his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ada, I don't know…" He trailed off, seeing the faraway smile in his foster father's eyes.

"Do not apologize, young one. You are home, Estel, and this shall always be where home exists for you. Never lose that knowledge." Lord Elrond reached forward, lightly laying his graceful fingers on Estel's thin, but powerful arms.

Estel smiled, bringing his free hand to rest on the pale hand of Elrond. "I'm sorry, Ada. I won't forget. I promise." 

****

Finis!

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Author's Note II: There you have it folks! The conclusion of the three part short story ::blinks and wonders if she just made an oxymoron:: **To Finally Come Home**. I'd like to thank Elladan and Elrohir for being twins, Legolas for being blonde, Estel for being the silly human he is, and of course, Lord Elrond for being an elf lord. I couldn't have done it without them! ::reviews what she just wrote:: Oh wow. I think I need more sleep. Or maybe less sleep. Who knows. Anyway, this is my final plea: REVIEW! Please! Okay, I'm really done now – Thanks to everyone for reading! I'll see you all in the next story!

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Translations:

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Garo an – Hold on

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Mellonin – My friend

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Hen -Neth – Young one

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Saes – Please

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Al nef – Not now/here

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Iston – I know

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Nosse-nin – My kin


	5. Maar Mori

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Author's Note: This story came about when I was body-slammed by a rather persistent plot bunny tonight, so I sat down and wrote out a quick little blurb. This isn't necessarily a misadventure, but I think it will work fine in this series. I never meant to write this…I'm actually working on a longer, more involved story right now (I'm on the second chapter actually…), but I just had to write this. It's harmless toddler Estel and big brother Elladan fluff, really. But I think it's cute…hee. Anyway, hope you like this little splatter of a story. Please, if you have time, review!

Misadventures in Imladris:

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Maar Mori

Elladan stirred in his sleep as a shrill cry rang through the halls of the Last Homely House. Trying to ignore it, the elf flopped onto his side, firmly pressing his ear into the pillow in hopes of muting the sharp sound. However, being blessed with elven senses, the feather pillow did little to block the cries. 

The room from which the distressed sounds came from was only several doors down from Elladan's own chambers, making the sounds even more difficult to block out. Finally, realizing that returning into the blissful slumber that he had been enjoying would be as impossible as befriending an orc, the Noldor elf sat up, blinking sluggishly. 

"By the Valar, what is this? The fourth night in a row?" Elladan muttered quietly to himself as he swung his legs to the edge of his bed. He allowed them to hang there a moment before he took the initiative to actually move himself off the bed. Another hysterical cry broke into the night air, nearly causing the dark-haired elf to cringe. "Aí! I am coming!"

Still somewhat disoriented from being woken from a rather pleasant slumber, Elladan toppled into the hallway. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment as silence overtook the darkness again. Perhaps he had stopped…

That thought was immediately vanquished several seconds later as the crying started up again. Elladan visibly sighed and stood up straighter, stretching his arms upward in the attempt to stifle a yawn.

"Elladan?" A somewhat surprised sounding voice caused the elf to snap his head to the right. There stood Lord Elrond looking remarkably awake for, what Elladan assumed, just being shaken out of sleep. "What are you doing out here?"

The twin raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to scowl or laugh at that comment. "How could I not be? That child is wailing loud enough to wake the Valar in the Gray Havens." The slight undertone of whining was detectable in Elladan's voice.

Elrond nodded unable to hide a slight frown on his face. "I know, Elladan. I'll go try to quiet him. I believe it to be nightmares that awake him so recurrently."

Shaking his head, Elladan held his hand out. "Don't worry about it, Ada. Let me handle it tonight. You have dealt with this for the past four nights, you don't need to be exhausted." He paused, looking at the unconvinced face of his father. "I was not truly tired tonight anyhow." He nearly laughed at his last statement. Perhaps that assertion departed slightly from the truth, but Elrond did not need to stay up yet another night.

"Are you sure, my son? I know that you have not dealt extensively with him…" This was Elrond's last offer for his son to take back his generous sacrifice.

"Yes, I am sure." As another sob broke the silence of the house, Elladan wondered what madness had overtaken him.

The elf lord nodded and smiled thinly. "Thank you. If you need assistance, just come to my rooms."

Elladan returned the nod and turned in the direction of the whimpering cries. He was positively starting to question his sanity; he had very little dealings with small children. What was he doing? 

Once he reached the room, he slowly turned the knob and silently opened the door, quickly slipping inside. He softly shut the door again and paused for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darker space.

"Aragorn?" His voice was subdued, as he did not wish to startle the child anymore than necessary. 

A sudden hiccuping whimper assured the elf that the child was still awake. Elladan soundlessly moved to the large bed where the toddler lay. A wooden frame had been built along the edges to prevent him from accidently pitching himself from the surface of the mattress.

By the light of the stars, Elladan could see the child curled up in the opposite corner, his small legs pulled up to his chin. Tear streaks lined his cheeks and the starlight reflected from the tears that still welled in the child's eyes. 

"Are you all right, young one?" Elladan questioned, suddenly dumbstruck with what to say.

The child's brow crinkled slightly as the threatening tears spilled over and streamed down his cheeks. Another sob escaped the toddler and he pulled his arms tighter around his tiny legs. 

Elladan quickly shook his head. "No, no! Don't cry, Aragorn, don't cry. Please, I did not mean to frighten you!"

The child lifted his face slightly, his shining gray eyes searching the elf's face. "Daddy?" His voice was filled with hope and he looked more carefully, hoping to see the man he was looking for behind the elf.

Immediately, Elladan was struck with a pang of guilt. He closed his eyes for a moment in reflection. The child thought that his father had come back. At only three years old, it was almost impossible for the young Aragorn to understand that his father would never be coming back. "No." He whispered, opening his eyes again. "Your father is not here." 

The hopeful flicker was immediately extinguished from the boy's face and he buried it again in his knees, another cry coming from him. Unable to take the sorrowful sounds any longer, Elladan moved to the other side of the bed where the boy sat. 

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Now what? Elladan thought helplessly. _What do I do?_ He hesitantly held a hand out, unsure how the young Aragorn would respond to the gesture. 

The young adan looked at the offered arm for a moment before crawling forward and holding out his arms expectantly to the bewildered elf. It took a moment for Elladan to register that the child wished to be picked up. Nervously, the elf wrapped his arms around the human child, lifting him from the bed. Instantly the boy buried himself in Elladan's shoulder.

The dark-haired twin was taken somewhat by surprise by the sudden action, but slowly brought his arm around and rested it on the soft baby hair of the child. "You poor thing…" He softly murmured in Sindarin. "I cannot imagine the horrors you have already seen."

A small, somewhat pudgy hand wrapped itself in the elf's long dark hair, pulling it a little harder than Elladan preferred. He decided that if the action calmed the child down, he would handle the slight accompanying pain. He could still hear the sniffles that Aragorn emitted. 

"What can I do to quiet you back to sleep, _neth-seldo_?" Elladan slowly stood, still tightly grasping the young boy in his arms. The elf thought back to what his mother used to do in order to lull him and his twin brother to sleep.

"Would you like to look at the stars?" He softly questioned the child, although he knew he would not receive an answer. In response, the boy tightened his hold on Elladan's long hair. The elf bit back a groan as dull pain coursed through his scalp. "I think I will just take that as a yes." He muttered, trying to readjust Aragorn so that the boy's grip would not be quite so painful.

After reaching a large window, Elladan lightly jumped to the wide windowsill and settled himself on it, making sure not to jostle the child too much. He wasn't even sure if the boy could see the stars, but he hoped that maybe just speaking would soothe the toddler back to sleep.

Gazing into the deep night sky, the elf gazed at the bright specks of light that made of the endless universe of stars. His eyes automatically travelled to find Eärendil twinkling brightly in the heavens. "That," Elladan softly spoke as he rubbed the boy's back. "is your grandfather's star." He paused briefly as he thought it over for a minute. "Or perhaps you are a few generations different than I. Let us just consider it your great-great-great Grandfather. I don't think either of us want to try and count back generations." 

Young Aragorn released his death grip on Elladan's dark strands of hair and pulled back slightly, looking for the first time into the elf's face. The twin could not help but smile when he saw the perplexed face of the toddler. "Do not worry just yet. Someday you will understand." He loosed one hand and pointed out into the night sky, lightly chuckling as Aragorn followed his direction intently. "See out there? Those are the stars, the light of the elves." 

The child turned back and looked solemnly into the elf's dark eyes. Then he carefully blew a bubble of spit from his mouth and giggled as it burst seconds later. Elladan sat unmoving and unblinking, not sure whether this would be a good time to cry or whether laughing may be the more appropriate response. "Someday…" He murmured again, trying not to cringe when the child took it upon himself to relocate more of Elladan's hair. 

"Well, human…" The elf gently tugged back at the hair, regaining control of it. "You are in dire need of sleep – as are some elves around here. What will make you sleepy, hm?" Aragorn reached up and placed his hands on the elf's smooth, pale face, entranced by the slight glow that came from it in the darkness. 

Elladan struggled not to laugh when the boy decided to try and investigate the mysterious voids of the elf's nostrils. "You are bound to get in trouble that way, young one." He lightly pulled the toddler's hands away from his face. "Maybe a song will help you sleep. I know whenever Ammë sang to us as elflings that we soon were sleeping. Hopefully the same goes for you."

The twin's soft, lilting voice broke the quiet of the deep night air as he sang a song that he had thought disappeared when Celebrían left for Valinor.

"Close your eyes, little one,

Dream sweet dreams till the rising sun.

Know that I will still be here

Whenever fear comes too near.

Hear my voice and sleep well

In the morning, time will tell.

So do not cry anymore tonight,

Close your eyes 'til morning's light…"

As the song stopped, Elladan could feel the deep, rhythmic breathing of the young human. His head lay lightly on the elf's shoulder and his short arms tightly hugged Elladan's right arm. 

Sighing, Elladan resigned to remaining on the windowsill for the remainder of the night. He leaned his head back onto the stone framing and gazed out the window, fixing his eyes on the light of Eärendil. Slowly, his eyes glazed over in elven sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lord Elrond stepped silently into Aragorn's room. Elladan had not returned to his room, so he entered the chamber wondering if his son had survived the ordeal. As his eyes settled on the windowsill, a smile slowly formed on his face. Elladan lay, eyes glazed, in a reclined position, his arms protectively wrapped around the tiny form of the peacefully sleeping Aragorn.

Unwilling to interrupt the slumber of either human or elf, Elrond slowly backed out of the room, making sure to soundlessly close the door. As he walked down the hallway, he truly began to hope that perhaps things would work out after all. Hope. Estel. 

****

AN: I know that the song probably isn't of the best quality, but it is supposed to represent a elvish lullaby for very young elves. I would imagine that it would be something simple and sweet. Anyway, if you have time, drop me a review please! Thanks for reading. 

Translantion:

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Neth-seldo – young child 

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Mori Maar – Good Night


End file.
